


Temptation

by doppelwolf



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Biting, Chains, Choking, Dark, Death Knight, F/M, Mental and Physical Bondage, Mind Control, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doppelwolf/pseuds/doppelwolf
Summary: She might be a prisoner of the Maw, but she can still dream of easier days than this, days with a young blonde King.Unfortunately, the Maw has changed Anduin more than she could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Anduin Wrynn/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain dubious consent/ non-con elements in later chapters. This is going to be a dark story.

She never imagined how confinement might affect the brain. Thoughts of those like herself, those who had found themselves in the Maw, played in her mind: her mother, the Horde leaders, and a certain blonde haired Prince.

No, a King. The new King of Stormwind, and her betrothed. 

There was no sense of time in the Maw, at least none that she could discern. But when the fires burned low in her cell, she found herself thinking of one memory alone:

A shaded cemetery on a fall afternoon. Not long after his father had been buried. Her shirt was soaked with sweat, and the trousers she wore to ride were stained with dirt. She bent over a headstone, while he (a King) caught his breath against the side of a mausoleum. Surley, this was not how her mother had meant for them to meet: on the road to their home, her dressed like a stable boy, and him so caught in panic she was almost met with attack.

She kept her eyes averted, hearing only his harsh breathing in the background until finally he seemed to steady himself. She remained silent, allowing a quiet to grow between them, peaceful and welcoming. She focused only on the ground before her, careful hands probing the disturbed dirt there and finding exactly what she wanted. A breath escaped her, one she didn't know she was holding. She rose, savoring the moment. The air, cool as it was, felt warm against her exposed flesh: comfortable. She took in the peace of that quiet place where the dead slept and let her King relax. Let him feel alone, as alone as she felt, as alone as a corpse in a grave.

Finally, once he had calmed, she stood, cradling her prize closely in her loose hands and spoke:

"I certainly didn't expect to meet the King of Stormwind on my way home this afternoon."

From what she had heard, he was quite agreeable. Not the hot-headed type. Her mother seemed to have a soft spot for him, just as she'd come to love her somewhat uncle, Thrall. She hoped the rumors were true. If she were going to be forced into this marriage, she would at least appreciate a measured partner. He was a scholar at heart, and that was her life after all: study not experience. 

"Nor I you, miss. I...I must apologize for the scene I made on the road." He paused for a moment before continuing, almost as if he felt compelled to explain his panic. "I received some very surprising news. I..." 

The soft breeze seemed to steal his thoughts away, and he focused on a point at the end of the cemetery, were they'd joined on the road. No doubt, he had received the news of their impending marriage ceremony. Maybe he, like her, had received a lecture about the need to produce an heir as soon as possible in these troubled times.

"Don't worry about it," she said, drawing his attention back. His eyes widened when he spotted the tarantula, it's white-and-black striped legs moving in slow motion as it stepped over her flattened palms.

Horror and fascination played across his face, but he didn't pull away as she stepped closer, the specimen like a magic trick before his eyes. 

"Is that dangerous?" His gaze flicked between the spider and her face, placid as she could hold it. 

"Not if you're careful, or with gloves like those," she said, nodding to his armored hands, and to her surprise, he stuck his hand out, as if unprompted.  
For a moment, she feared she might have charmed him on accident when they met on the road. The creature toed its way into his palm, then wrist, and she used her freed hands to steady his. 

When she dreamed of this moment, she liked to imagine she saw a blush rise to his cheeks at their closeness, at the inappropriateness of that contact. He kept his attention divided between their hands and her face, a shy awe lighting his blue eyes. Guilt sunk in her gut then, and she pitied him.

"We should make our way back before they send a search party."

He nodded, allowing her to collect the spider. She bent and placed it back by the grave, where it's scuttled to safety below ground. A sadness she couldn't explain crept up her throat, chocking. 

Or maybe those were the chains that held her suspend in this dungeon, sucking the breath from her as she dreamed of her King.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wanted him, even if she couldn't admit it.
> 
> Non-con/dubious consent

Approaching footsteps roused her from the half-sleep of her imagination. She didn't look up, her body mercifally numb after days (or had it just been hours?) of bondage. The steps didn't stop at the protective rune perimeter around her, but she couldn't imagine one of the peons who had attended to her coming so close. 

Moving hurt, but worse was finding herself face to face with those blue eyes. A horrible, magical blue. She felt the necromantic magic nipping at her flesh, cold even to her. She turned her face away, praying this was some sort of nightmare, an illusion cooked up by her twisted mind.

"Rynn," his voice flat and soft, so soft she thought she might have imagined it. A gloved hand stroked her face before threading through her limp, white hair. His fingers brought forth a shiver from her and something more. She bit her lip, keeping her eyes down. His fingers griped the hair at her nape hard, turning her head to face him. She whimpered and hated herself for the show of weakness. 

"Can't you look at me? You couldn't keep your eyes off my face last time we met." 

"This is wrong. It can't be real." Her voice was horse, weak, and she was shocked to hear the words, as if she needed him to shake her awake. One gloved hand found her hip, fingers squeezing hard, her leather armor creaking. 

She looked at him through her lashes, his hand arching her neck at a painful angle. She found his gaze less cold this time. Instead, he seems interested as if he were studying an animal, not his lover. 

Something low in her stomach twisted, and her body quivered. He seemed so pensive, as reserved as he was the first time they made love, at least before they were joined. 

She closed her eyes, and tried to turn her head, but received no leway in his grip. How could she think about something so intimate, so special and pure now? How could she think of that when she saw the lust in his eyes? When she felt her body preparing for the inevitable. 

Tears stung her eyes.

"Anduin," she gasped, "Please don't do this."

"Do what," he said, his hand untwisting from her hair to stroke her face again. " Spend the night with my queen? Have you no sense of duty?" 

His mouth fell on her harshly then, the shock of it granting him access before she could clamp her jaw shut. He was nothing like the shy young man she'd seen in the cemetery that day, nothing like the gentle lover who had taken her to save them the pain of a "wedding night." She'd been nervous then, afraid even, as he caresed her body, as he claimed her. 

She couldn't deny the pleasure of the experience. Or the pleasure she felt now, the desire for him to do it all over again, forceful as he was. How could she want that, after she had been held here, after he had been so changed? 

Part of her wanted the excuse to feel something, to get rid of the numbness that tinged her body and soul. It wouldn't be her fault if her body were to ease the process would it? 

The thought frightened her, and she bit down. Anduin pulled away, a soft grunt of pain escaping him before he smiled, a spot if blood in his lip. He dabbed it with his gloved finger. 

"I should have known you'd be firey. I guess you take after Jaina more than you thought."

He dismissed the chains that held her, catching her limp body before it could hit the floor. She was so weak, she couldn't even cling to him, her limbs limp and tingling. His hand knoted her hair again roughly.

"Light, that first time, I wanted to just..." He snarled against her throat, the only remaing chain looped there. 

His teeth sank into her flesh, and he held her steady as she fought against his crushing hold, a scream escaping her. It echoed through the chamber as he pulled away, licking at wound. His mouth crashed against her again, coppery and bitter. 

"Let me show you me the force of my desire," he hissed, cool lips finding her neck again. 

"Your not yourself. Please, stop this," she whispered, yet her body ached for him to act in his threat.

"You won't deny me," he growled, pulling back. His free hand tore at her armor, removing it piece by piece while the other held her by the nape.

She wanted to fight, to pull away from his touch, yet she couldn't help the desire to press into his arms, to savor every touch, to revel in the pain: she wanted this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like my twisted mind~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can one dominant the dominated?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat double-sided non-consent.

She shivered against the stone floor, but not from the cold. She tried not to look at her armor, useless, littering her runed prison encircling them. Behind her, Anduin removed his own plate. The clang of metal on stone gave her slack limbs just enough strength to curl around her nude torso, her back to him.

Her King clicked his tongue, a still gloved hand finding her again. She didn't open her eyes, but she could sense him beside her, then looming over her on his knees. He drew a line from her exposed shoulder to the curve of her hip, and she whimpered again.

"Come now, is there truly no fight in you?" He breathed against her ear. "Where's the fun in that?" 

His gloved hand came down hard against her ass, the slap of leather on skin filling the chamber, followed by her shocked cry. She heard a few soft gasps from him and realized what his other hand must have been doing.

"Not so dangerous after all, are you my queen?"

Those words twisted her insides, but she couldn't tell if the feeling was fear or arousal. She couldn't imagine the Anduin she knew saying such a thing, hitting her, even if she were to divulge a strange truth: even now, the sting felt good. But they had not known each other long. How could she be so sure? 

Worse, his taunt lit a vain fire of spite in her, giving her enough strength, enough resolve, to show him her secret. 

Even in her darkest moments here in this prison, she hadn't dared reach for the power tucked away within her: her father's power. She turned her head, lifting up the tiniest bit on her weak arms, as if to tell him something. To her surprise, he leaned in, his face flat. Only those cold blue eyes betrayed his satisfaction.

She touched the power, it's strength overwhelming. With so little experience, she could only control it for a moment.

"I'm not your queen. Let me go," she spat.

Her voice sounded strange, laced with dark magic. Anduin pulled back, as if her words had felt like an actual blow, and to her surprise, the ghoulish blue glow faded, taking with it all malice. For a moment, he seemed to take in the situation. 

Horror blossomed across his features, and his fingers hooked the chain she wore like a collar. It disipated, smoke in his fingers as they brushed the spot where he had bitten her.

Just as suddenly as he had broken free, the magic took him again, his fingers clamping around her throat until she strained to breathe. The sadness and shock she'd seen in his eyes, the terror as he realized what his body was about to do, had been doing, burned itself into her mind's eye, clearer as black edged into her vision.

"You think you can dominant me with my own magic?" He hissed.

He forced her against the stone, scraping her flesh raw.

"Enough play. I am your King, and you will serve."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos or comment of you're sick like me~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Enough play. I am your King, and you will serve."

"Such a beautiful specimen. Shall I show you your place?" He flattened her onto her back, her hands prying at his crushing fingers, to no avail. He knelt between her legs, one strong knee pinning her thigh to the stone. He used his teeth to pull his glove free, cold hand finding the junction of her legs. A cruel smile spread across his ashen face.

"Already wet for me. You're just full of surprises," he cooed, his fingers gliding between the cleft of her sex.  
The hand that held her throat loosened enough for her to catch her breath, enough for a faint gasp of pleasure to escape her when his fingers found her clit. 

The hand retreated from her then, and she heard his breathing catch. She imagined his cock in his fist, as ready for her as she was for him. He leaned in, body looming over her, and he captured her lips again. Her arms fell limply to the sides of her head. 

His hand found hers then, fingers entertwining. Such a strange gesture: gentle, misleading. He took her quickly, sliding in with little resistance from her trapped legs. She gasped in his mouth, dizzy from the pressure on her aching neck. Or was it the pressure she felt as he filled her? A wave of pleasure roled over her body, a horrible vortex forming low in her belly as he sheathed himself fully in one rough stroke. A snarl escaped him, and he bit her lip, drawing blood. 

He took no time, withdrawing and entering her over and over, his pace unrestrained, so different from the measured, tentative movements of their first union. Could he have been holding his beastial nature back from her in that moment? 

His mouth continued trailing harsh kisses and bites over her lips, down her jaw. His grunting filled the chamber, accompanied by her own rushed breathing, her own breathless gasps, as he stroked her most sensetive places again and again.

Her body tingled, the black that had vinnetted her vision began to burn through, and she closed her eyes. In the darkness, she could imagine him as himself, the anxious boy king hiding behind a tough facade, and she found herself on the cusp of release. She focused her mind on that goal, on the building pleasure of her core. Her hips ground against him, and she realizing her legs were around him, though she couldn't remember when he had eased his hold. 

His hand released her throat with time for her to suck in one final gasping breath before her climax took her. His thrusts faultered for only a moment before he continued, his own peak reached seconds later. His hands came down on either side of her head, steadying aboved her as he breathed hard.

"Do you see?" He huffed, breath oddly cool as he kissed the throbbing bite he'd given her earlier. "Your King has a darkness in him, one he should have acted on long ago." 

She didn't know what to make of the words. Even though she was breathing again, exhaustion threatened to pull her under, into darkness, a darkness she might not wake from, though she feared she would. 

"We should do this again," a sinister edge to his voice, "Soon." He rose, gathering himself to return to his master. 

"Rest well, my Queen." 

She lay in silence on the cusp of sleep until he had gone. A lethargic hand found the wound on her neck, brushed it without the impediment of her chains. 

Maybe her charm had worked; maybe she had reached him. He might be in chains, but she was a step closer to being free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~~~
> 
> Send comments or kudos if you enjoy~~~


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